


Out Of Breath

by Schmendrick



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 13:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6520777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmendrick/pseuds/Schmendrick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max is dropped off by Chloe at Blackwell after their dispute in Episode 3, but that's just the start of her troubles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Of Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something to give back to fellow Maximum Victorians.
> 
> This is an idea I've had for something you could narratively replace the game's AU sequence with in order to adopt the connection between Max and Victoria portrayed in it into the original timeline. Because we all know only original timeline ships are true ships.
> 
> ...On that note, since this is supposed to be a canon-compliant replacement for the events of the game after Chloe drops off Max at Blackwell on Wednesday evening, you can obviously interpret this to develop into anything.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy!
> 
> PS: English is not my native language and so if you find that anything sounds off or repetitive, I'm sorry.

_You're right. I don't want to hear this._

Chloe's words are echoing through Max's head incessantly as she makes her way through the laughing and chattering masses of students gathered in the Blackwell schoolyards; their exuberance an almost insultingly stark contrast to the heaviness Max is left feeling after Chloe freaked and drove off without another word.

Isn't it all too unfair? Why can't she be one of the many students carefreely going about their days sitting on dark green Blackwell lawns, tinged with the warm gold of a setting October sun? Why does she have to be the one poor soul making her way through this serene play of nature without being able to enjoy it? Instead carrying the burden not only of a troubled friend, but now also the strange ability to command the stream of time?!

Max pulls her grey hoody out of her bag and throws it over her "Rachel Amber cosplay" - the colorfulness and playfulness of Rachel's outfit just feel alien to her right now and she wants to avoid attracting attention at all costs. The hoody smells of the same detergent Joyce used to use when she and Chloe were kids; their pirate adventures meant that Joyce had to wash Max's clothes regularly back then and today she did again. The smell only makes Max more sentimental.

She avoids Mr. Jefferson's attempt to talk to her. She just wants to retreat into her room right now and give herself a couple of hours of silence and solitude in order to be able to gather her thoughts and make at least enough sense of everything to be able to go on at all. 

Reaching the dorms, Max feels relief wash over her: nobody is here and she can let herself go, stop holding herself together. Holding back tears was something Max had made a point of actively practicing. She had always been quick to cry - her body too small to contain the intensity of her emotions. But holding back always meant just that and so it is not surprising to her that now, after how taxing the week has already been, everything comes crashing down when she steps over the spot where Kate would have landed - where Kate did land just yesterday. Another friend pushed to the very brink and Max had to push herself to her own in order to get to her. And she did. And she did save her. But she doesn't think herself a hero; feels this ability wasted on her and herself crumbling under its immense weight of responsibility.

The steps leading up to the first floor are an almost insurmountable obstacle at this point. She clings to the railing and slowly takes step after step. Between pushing her powers past her mental and physical capabilities and sneaking out late last night to go on an investigative tour through Blackwell and ending up in the pools, she only now notices how little energy she has left. Already at the end of her powers and the monster tornado is still to come - insurmountable.

Reaching the girls' corridor after what seems an eternity, Max collapses against the wall to her right. Just a minute or two to recover enough to be able to make it further down the hall to her room, or so she tells herself. Originally she was supposed to get dorm number 224 - the first room on the left. Right now this only feels like another instance of the universe taunting her.

Slowly the dark and quiet of her current spot consume her and and an instant later she finds herself waking unpleasantly to the shrill sound of two girls laughing. "Oh god," she thinks, "I fell asleep." - and now everybody else is returning to their dorms, walking past her miserable self curled into herself in the corner behind the door leading to the stairway.

"Right with the trash where she belongs I see."

She looks up squinting through puffy eyes partially hidden behind her disheveled bangs. Victoria, of course. Accompanying her, the source of the hyena-like laughter that had stirred her awake just a moment ago: Taylor and Courtney.

They don't notice that she is now awake and Max doesn't think to change that. This battle is lost; let them get bored of gawking at her pathetic state and steal herself away after they leave. Which thankfully happens more quickly than Max had expected. But of course not before she hears the familiar shutter sound of Victoria's phone camera. "Really?" Max thinks, "Just two days ago she said I deserved a better shot, but this is not what I thought she had in mind then."

Lamely brushing through her hair with her hand and pulling her zipper hoody somewhat into place, Max makes to stand up. Looking around to make sure the coast is clear, she notices that none other than Victoria is standing at the end of the hall, right in front and staring out of the window that Max sometimes likes to take peaks and even photos out of at night because it allows for a better view of the moon and mountains than her own. She catches herself finding that right now, the view from all the way back here is not any less photo-worthy; Victoria's slender silhoutte cast in the pale light of the moon shining eerily through the frail window pane seperating her inside from the infinite dark outside. Victoria has always looked like she belonged in an old painting, just like this, Max thinks.

"Dark outside? Just how long have I been lying here for?" she asks herself as she escapes her thoughts and comes back to the cold and uncomfortable reality of having falling alseep on the ground, feeling like a complete mess - and looking like it too, especially when comparing herself to that ethereal scene still presenting itself to her at the end of the hall. A scene that she now has to for the life of her avoid disturbing on the way to her room. Victoria would probably wake the entire dorm ripping into Max if she noticed her. What else is she waiting vulture-like in the corridor with Max's cadaver for if not in order not to pass up the chance to attack her when she can't defend herself? Or so Max finds herself making sense of Victoria's presence here at this time of night as she...

...stumbles right against the trash bin she had fallen asleep next to. Great. Max's tendency to get lost in her thoughts, lack of focus and clumsiness combine again to ruin one of her plans before she even really started making way. "Blackwell Ninja my ass." she accuses partly herself and partly Juliet for making her think for just a second she could ever even be that badass in the first place.

Hearing a shift at the end of the hallway reminds her of what exactly she ruined with that godawful sound metal bins make when kicked against: You startled the witch.  
Max has half a mind to chuckle at the thought, but a glance up from the delinquent bin towards to where she has last seen Victoria standing more than helps her suppress it.

She is still standing right where she was - not yet rushing at Max, voice screeching and fangs sparkling. But her body is now turned toward her, gaze fixed, and that alone is enough to make Max freeze for a second.

"Can't exactly turn around now. And running off like a scared child won't help either. Whereto even? I don't think Chloe would be happy to let me stay over again tonight..."

And so, quickly averting her eyes from said gaze, fixing them firmly onto the ground instead and pulling her zipper's hood deep over her head, Max starts to walk carefully forward. She is still exhausted and uses the wall to her right to lean against, making her way slowly up the hall. Victoria doesn't move and with every step Max is getting closer to her, she finds herself leaning further into the wall, feeling like she has to avoid a caged animal.

Another eternity before she finally stands in front of her door. Just one more step and she will have done it; will have survived this horrible day and reached the safe haven that is her room - in it, only positive things, positive memories and reminders of a less troublesome past. She firmly grasps the handle as if it were a lifeline and pushes down.

Locked.

Max is absolutely certain she had left her room unlocked when she left yesterday night. She practically never locks. And yet the door won't budge. "Just why is everything so wrong today?" she asks herself while rummaging through her pockets in search for the key. She is getting more nervous with each one returning empty and after the third pass she has to accept that she just doesn't have it on her. Must have left it in the lock from the inside. So close yet so far. Now she is at the mercy of whatever happens out here.

Sinking down the inside of her doorframe Max curls into herself on the hallway ground yet again and prepares mentally for an uncomfortable night and an even more uncomfortable following day. A day of school without proper sleep, her whole body aching and she can't even take her school stuff, let alone a shower.  
She considers texting Chloe again, but that only serves to refresh the unpleasant memories of how they had parted earlier today. The things Chloe said and how incredible the distance between them felt in that moment, when prior it had seemed to be closing so naturally and effortlessly. No, she can't ask Chloe for help. If she ever hopes to restore their friendship she can't be asking for midnight favours now. A painful sense of loneliness overcomes her then and she can't help but to start crying anew.

Suddenly she feels a presence close to her and a glance to the left has her jumping in fright.  
Right, Victoria. How did she forget about her. Looking up from where she is sitting, tears still adorning her cheeks, Max finds Victoria standing over her, staring down - much to her surprise only the faintest annoyance visible. "Could this be what compassion looks like on her?" Max quickly scrambles that last thought as she remembers that this is probably her demise. Victoria still looks scary in the moonlight and right now Max is as defenseless as she's ever been. Victoria can do whatever with her. She has her right where you could ever want a foe and she must know it.

"Do you actually enjoy sleeping on the ground?" is what Victoria breaks the tense silence between them with and her almost playful tone catches Max off-guard.

"W- What?" appropriately is what Max blurts out in response.

"Sleeping on the ground, hipster," Victoria calmly continues, one hand kept at her hip, the other vaguely pointing down the hall, "you did it earlier, remember? Is that like a new thing you do?"

"Very funny." is the first and best thing Max meagerly manages to counter with, knowing she isn't really in any position to counter. And now it's clear that Victoria will show no pity. Still Max uses her hoody's sleeve to wipe away at her teary face and sniffs her nose clean one final time, trying to gain at least some composure and not just completely give up.

She laboriously and shakily makes to stand up against the doorframe and flinches another time as she feels Victoria's hand grab onto her arm. It takes her a second or two, but sheepishly following the hand up to its owner's face reveals an expression that has her realizing that this is not the grip of a vulture, but a supporting one.

"I," confused but also a little more steady Max continues, "I had a shitty day and I can't get into my room."

Silence surrounds her for the next few moments. If Victoria didn't know already, now it's obvious: Max is at her mercy. She keeps her eyes glued to her hands clutching at her sleeves in front of her, waiting for whatever Victoria will decide to do now.

The grip on her arm loosens and softly slides down her side before it leaves her body completely.

"Come with me." Victoria sighs and motions to step over to the other side of the hall, and Max's eyes incredulously follow the motion to where the lair of the witch greets her.  
"Ok, it's not a lair; I've been in there myself and it's pretty neat, cosy even." Max thinks to herself quickly. "But what is Victoria's deal? Did she set all this up? What is she planning to do? Nobody gets to just go into her room, surely she doesn't just intend to help me, of all peop-"

"Oh come on, or do you want to sleep next to the trash again?" Victoria interrupts her thoughts and face both from growing increasingly fearful. "I'm not going to eat you."

Victoria takes a few more steps and is now standing completely in her room. Max still hesitates, standing meek and baffled at her side of the hall. It takes the door opposite to her to start closing slowly for her to react at all.

"W- Wait! I'm coming!" Max calls out, her voice kept in low rush. If Victoria wanted to physically harm her she could have, just now, and everything else will be more bearable than a night out here. At least that's what Max tells herself when she finds enough boldness to push the door back open and step into her bully's room.

With that however, said boldness fades as quickly as it had sprung, leaving Max feeling incredibly vulnerable and self-conscious in the bright lights of Victoria's glamorous room, her own tired and distressed state a sad contrast in the midst of it.  
Well, at least as glamorous as a dorm ever could be. It even smelled expensive.

Now she is awkwardly waiting for Victoria - who has since Max's arrival been standing next to the still open door, in front of her closet, looking busy - to make a move. Victoria is in control here, she couldn't expect Max to break the silence, could she? Another couple of moments pass until Max finds herself backing up against the door. She doesn't know whether she wants to close it or make her escape, but before she can decide on it Victoria is pushing a bunch of clothes and a washbag into her arms.

"Go get a shower hobo, you are not sleeping in my bed like that."

Max can practically hear Victoria eyeing her up and down.

She looks up at Victoria questioningly, but the latter has already gone to sit at her desk.

Before she can completely leave the room, Victoria speaks up hesitantly: "By the way Max, I deleted the photo I took of you in the hallway earlier."  
"Oh." is Max's answer to that. That was surprising. Did Victoria notice that Max had been awake? But it's the suggestion of sleeping in Victoria's bed that her mind is really occupied with on her way to the dormitory showers.

Arriving there and running the water, she gets the first real opportunity to calm down today and to try and collect her thoughts. But now all she can think about are the events of the last thirty minutes or so and Victoria's unusual behaviour and her intentions.

"Just what is she planning? Will she just not let me back in again? Draw dicks on my face in my sleep? Poison me?" are some of the things Max comes up with, but her thoughts quickly snap to Victoria's toiletries. The bodywash and shampoo smell and feel heavenly. "I could get used to that. But I better not; this stuff likely costs more per bottle than I spend on shampoo in a whole year. ...Why would she let me use this?"

She can't make sense of any of it and eventually just settles on the idea that between the comforting words she had had for Victoria two days ago and Max's miserable state in the hall today, Victoria just must have found some humanity. - If only to gather enough courage to be able to knock at Victoria's door after she finishes towelling and dressing herself in Victoria's admittedly ultra comfy satin pajamas.

To her relief the door clicks open a moment later and allows her to for the second time tonight step into the lionesses lair. The bright lights thankfully now replaced by only the dim glow of a string of lights snaking itself around the window frame and along the three big self-portraits hung above the bed.

The lioness herself has made to sit at her desk again after having let her eyes linger on Max for a second longer than the still wet-haired girl could bear. She frequently strolled through the girls' dorms in sleepwear - everybody here did, even Victoria. But now Max was clad in _her_ sleepwear, smelled of _her_ shower products. Max's thoughts wander to cats and how they mark their property with their body odor before becoming aware of the fact that she is zoning out again, standing awkwardly backed up against the door just like before.

"Close the damn door already, Max." comes a little impatiently from the desk. It takes Victoria a second to go on after another clicking sound announces that Max has obeyed, "And you can put my shower stuff wherever."

The bag had gotten a bit wet when Max adventurously went through its many contents in search of the only two things she ever thought you needed to shower, and so rather than putting it anywhere close to Victoria's closet she decides on setting it down on the little table in front of the couch, and herself on said couch. Satin on soft leather. Weird, but comfortable in a luxurious way.

Folding her hands in her lap and pressing her knees together, Max waits for whatever is going to happen now. Maybe she'd just fall asleep right here, leave in the morning and that was it. Could one thing tonight be that easy? Or is Victoria spending the time at her desk messaging her posse and coordinating the ultimate humiliation?

These are the things going through her head before the subject of her thoughts suddenly stands, laptop balanced on one hand, and startles her: "Do you wanna watch a movie or something or are you too tired already?"

If she is being honest with herself she _is_ too tired and, frankly, too confused to be able to concentrate on a movie right now. But it would feel like she turned Victoria down, in her own room, after she had taken her in like a stray dog. And so her sense of gratefulness compels her to go along. Besides, she can't help but be curious what kind of movie Victoria would want to watch with her. She is also starting to think that maybe Victoria isn't actually out to destroy her.

"Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, a movie would be cool," Max says a little too quietly for her own liking and notices that Victoria is hesitating now where she stands, one brow slightly raised, "- if you want, that is. I could also just sleep, if you want that." Now her attempt at speaking up louder had made her voice go a little too high-pitched and she cringes inwardly.

Victoria only responds by sitting down herself, albeit at the bed end of the couch. The laptop sits, well, atop her lap and after a few seconds of staring at the screen she turns to Max and asks: "What do you want to watch?"

Max gives her a quick side glance. "Y- You are asking me?!" she answers bashfully and looks back to her fingers pulling at each other in her lap. What is she asking her for? Is this a test? Her choice would probably be way too lame and she'd be ridiculed for it.

Remembering that Victoria is waiting for an answer, she considers that she could go for Final Fantasy right now. Or Kung Fu Panda. Yep, way too lame. "Uhm...," still having no clue what to suggest here, Max just goes for what she usually has running on her own laptop to fall asleep to, "I know a site where they stream Spongebob episodes, so..."

"Weirdo." 

Of course. Max knows it's not something you necessarily suggest to watch together, but Victoria would be the one person that doesn't like Spongebob. "Then you decide," Max retorts with a little edge in her voice, "it was your ide-"

"À bout de souffle." Victoria interrupts her.

"Gesundheit." Max finds a bit of her quick-wittedness returning as she is getting more comfortable and less concerned about her survival. Smiling a bit uncertainly to herself she hears Victoria sigh.

"Breathless, Max. It's a movie." she says and sounds only a little exasperated doing so.

"Fine. Let's watch your obscure french film." Max manages a smirk.

"First of all, it's not obscure and don't act like you aren't into french arts, Mrs. Daguerre. And secondly," Victoria pats the spot next to her, "you'll have to come here if you actually want to see anything."

Max hesitates.

"The viewing angles on these laptops are terrible and while the movie isn't obscure, it _is_ black and white." Victoria elaborates.

Max shifts uncomfortably and scoots a butt-width closer and is now sitting roughly in the middle of the couch, her head turned eagerly towards the screen in a way she intends to convey that this totally works now.

Victoria rolls her eyes and suddenly there is an arm reaching around Max, pulling her in close with a squeak of the white leather beneath her that Max hopes disguises the surprised squeal she lets out herself.

So close. She is fully leaning into Victoria's side. The arm around her lingers for a moment more at her side, but then moves up to rest atop the backrest behind her. Better, but not by much. "Shouldn't this closeness be putting her on edge at least as much as it does me?" Max wonders as she dumbly accepts and adjusts in her new position. Stray dog; this is her life now.

Their thighs pressed together, Victoria places the laptop on top the both of them - one half on her own, the other on Max's. The difference in height between the girls however leads to the laptop now being slightly slanted to the left. Painfully aware of this fact - certainly more so than Victoria seems to be, clicking away at the touchpad maneuvering through her files - Max curses her averagely short legs and slightly raises her right one on her tiptoes in order to get the laptop to be even.

Her stupid leg naturally starts bobbing at that and now this Victoria is bothered by. She grabs at Max's thigh and firmly pushes it down to stand securely on its heel again.

"S- Sorry... Just wanted to make the laptop stand straight." Max mutters.

"Well, I don't need it perfectly straight."

But then as the movie starts to sound throughout the room, everything getting darker with the black intro frames old movies tend to have, Max feels the leg next to hers shift and straighten out in order to become level with hers and the sensation of skin rubbing against satin rubbing against skin sends electric shivers up her spine. Almost too electric. Wait, is the laptop actually electrocuting her?

Thankfully that turns out to have been false alarm as the sensation slowly ebbs away. Replacing it an instant later however is a deep fatigue. Max had already practically been a corpse before Victoria decided to give her one of the strangest evenings she's had at Blackwell yet. And before she decided to pull Max into her side; warm, soft, smelling so nice, slow breaths, a strong heartbeat and little unconscious movements emitting from Victoria's delicate body into her own.

And the movie _is_ black and white, and certainly french. Considering all of this, Max finds it downright impossible to keep her eyes open. Hopefully Victoria would forgive her for nodding off before the movie had even really begun. She knows she never blamed Chloe when she did.  
Hopefully Victoria would forgive her for nodding off _against her side_. This was actually happening then, huh. Max just didn't have the energy left to feel strange about it. Right now, it felt very un-strange; it felt, truth be told, so very right, right now.  
\- Hell, hopefully she had been right in her growing suspicion that Victoria didn't actually plan to do something to her in her sleep.

Whatever else she may have hoped for beyond that, Max falls asleep here, nuzzling half-consciously into the crook of Victoria's neck.

...

Waking up, Max finds the room completely dark, herself in bed, alone, tucked in securely. "Where am I? How did I get here?" - Right, she's in Victoria's room. She... fell asleep on the couch. That means Victoria must have carried her into bed and tucked her in. 

What.

The bed feels fantastic and Max would gratefully go back to slumber if it weren't for the suspicious absence of the person that had in a seemingly complete turn of character cared so much about her in a moment where she had needed it the most. That Victoria hadn't abused her vulnerability was surprising enough, but she would have never imagined to find comfort in this person that had always, even after the incident in the dormyard two days ago, seemed so hostile.

Sensing the room slightly illuminating from the foot of the bed, she sits up and notices that the door is ajar and that the source of light is on the outside.

Max throws the covers aside, stands up and makes to cross the floor, wincing a little at the cold on her naked feet. Victoria had even taken her socks off.

She takes her phone from the table to check the time: 6:20 in the morning. She pulls the door open slowly and tippytoes across the hall to where her own door is now magically opened. Next she is left gasping in shock at the scene that presents itself to her on the inside: Victoria is kneeling on her bed, a plastic sheet pulled over it, and there is blood everywhere - Victoria appearing to be spreading it all over her memorial wall.

As if that isn't horrendous enough, next Max spots a photomontage lying on the ground: Her severed head, eyes scratched out, paired up with a goat head. Both sitting on a food plate, a drink next to it.

"What the _fuck_?!" she can't help but scream, hand clamped over her mouth in horror. Of course Victoria must have been planning something. But this is just appalling. Was Victoria actually, _actually_ , trying to kill her? Some strange ritual? Did she know about her powers, her visions?

Victoria snaps around to face her, irritation and fierceness defining her features. Max jumps away from the door and attempts to run off, but a hand firmly clutches around her wrist an instant later and pulls her back, a second arm coming down across her midsection, keeping her in place despite her screams, and further pulling her backwards into her own room. Vulture after all.

"Let me go!" Max screams in fear as she squirms violently in Victoria's grasp. 

Then she feels herself be thrown back first onto the bed covered in plastic and red. Victoria's hands return, this time at her shoulders, pinning her down against the mattress. Time to die.

"Calm down Max!" Victoria stares sternly into her alarmed doe eyes, "I can explain this, okay?!"

Max is still completely terrified, but slowly and cautiously stops resisting, limbs relaxing.

Victoria is still pinning her down, staring at her, and it takes a few breaths, but then her glare softens and much to Max's relief she slides off of her and sits down next to her on the bed.

She picks up the horrible photomontage from the ground and starts talking with her eyes fixed to it: "Nathan." she sighs, turning the photo around in her hand.  
"Look, Nathan has been particularly weird lately. I really don't know what his deal is, but he came to me and talked about breaking into your room and trashing it. To scare you."

She turns around to Max who is still lying behind her giving her a weirded-out but also curious look.

"I didn't agree with him, or help him, but I did tell him that you leave your dorm open."

Another glance back and Max still doesn't look pacified.

"That's it, okay? I swear!" 

For the first time since their strange encounter, Max talks to her: "And what about this?" she gestures around her room, confusion and fear still noticeably present in her voice. "And that?" - now gesturing towards Victoria's room. 

"I...," Victoria hesitates, "I saw you leave Chloe's truck earlier. And how down you looked. And then saw you again there in the hallway. After what you did when Samuel splattered paint all over me and with what happened to Kate... Like, how could I have let you just walk into your room and find _this_?! I'm mean, not terrible."

"...And so you locked me out."

"Obviously. You should really stop leaving your key in your lock. And I _did_ give you a place to sleep, remember?"

Max blushes at the memories, and the fact that Victoria still doesn't seem to mind the intimacy of it all.

"I just wanted to get you to sleep and then come here and clean up, you know.  
Nathan used some serious red paint... God, I'm sorry about the mess. Me and paint, right?"

Max actually laughs at that, which surprises Victoria. But not as much as what happens next.

Max sits up and hugs Victoria fiercly from the side. "Thank you so much, Victoria. You have no idea how badly I needed support and for it to come from you means so incredibly much."

Now it's Victoria's turn to blush. Max is nuzzling into her neck again and she is feeling the same urge she felt earlier when Max had fallen asleep against her side. The same strange, but overwhelmingly strong, urge to kiss her.  
But now Max is awake and so Victoria actually finds herself angling her head down, closing the distance, lifting Max's head and looking into her puzzled eyes when...

Max's phone goes off. Max lifts herself off of Victoria and retrieves it from her bag.

Chloe.

 _hey man_  
_i suck again_  
_sorry i got in your face today and took out my bullshit rage on my best friend_

Max is beaming at her screen now and types an answer.

_Chloe, I understand. You're going through a lot._

She looks around her room, catches a glimpse of the sick photomontage Nathan had made - now lying on the ground again since it slipped out of Victoria's hands after Max's embrace had taken her by surprise -, and a glimpse of Victoria herself, looking back at her, a rare hint of sadness in those dark green eyes of hers. Max adds: 

_We all are._


End file.
